


It’s not always rainbows and butterflies

by gingerbreadman



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Boys In Love, Epic Friendship, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Smut - Who knows, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Larry Stylinson Is Real, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, Non AU, POV Original Character, Sex Talk, Tags Are Hard, a lot of it, larry stylinson - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-03
Updated: 2016-05-11
Packaged: 2018-06-06 02:39:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6734599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gingerbreadman/pseuds/gingerbreadman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liv has a normal life, until she's approached to be Harry Styles' next girlfriend. But how do you pretend being a happy couple when both hearts aren't in it?</p><p> </p><p>THIS IS A LARRY FIC.<br/>Except their struggle is narrated from a original character's point of view.</p><p>I suck at summaries, so I'll just say that, in my head, Liv's situation could happen to anyone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic, please be nice :)

My flow-y black gown flown like open wings as I whirled around to check myself at the mirror for the last time. I stopped, the dress falling back along my body, also becoming still. The final results of the last couple of hours getting ready were satisfying and I made my way to the front door of my apartment, grabbing the clutch bag from the sideboard on the way out.

A black limo was already waiting for me at the street when I left the building. The driver was holding up the door and I greeted him as I got in to settle on the comfy white leather seat. I was kind of used to this type of treatment, even though I was not a rich person. In fact, I was finishing college and was living on a tight budget, which meant I’d take any paying job I could.

That was the exact reason I was on that limo, actually. It was awards season and if some artist couldn’t be bothered showing up, the production company called for a substitute, from a selected list they had, to take their seats and provided transportation for them to get there. It was a different job then the crew member that stood by the side of the theatre waiting for the artists to go up the stage to take their seats so the audience doesn’t seem too empty on camera. I got to sit all night at the same spot and enjoy the show, behaving like I belonged, which, of course, I didn’t. That night the gig happened to be at the _People’s Choice Awards_.

When the limo pulled on the designated area at the Microsoft Theater, the photographers were ready to snap a shot at whoever was getting out. I’ve always loved this particular bit. Not because I was getting my picture taken, but because of their disappointed faces when I was the one who stepped out. It was so funny to see the flashes fading, cameras dropping down and them turning away, just because I wasn’t famous. It used to hurt my feelings, but I learned to just have a laugh about it.

My presence at the event was architected by the production, so they knew it was a seat-filler arriving in that exact limo (duh, they’ve rent it) and there was a staff member just outside the car door. The dude with a walkie-talkie headset guided me while I walked down the red carpet and into the theatre.

As we kept walking towards the stage, I felt butterflies. It occurred to me that I’d never sat in the first rows, where the nominees sat and where we seemed to be headed. Someone important must have cancelled at short notice and the staff wasn’t able to shift anyone around. Suddenly, I got nervous. I was used to this kind of job, yes, but it was always kind of intimidating being around so many successful people.

“That’s your seat. You know the drill, right?” The staff dude asked me.

“Yeah, thanks.” I replied as I sat down, adjusting my dress to get as little wrinkle as possible. The drill he mentioned was to stay put and wait for the room to fill up.

I was seated on the eighth row, on the fifth chair counting from the central isle. The house was mostly empty, except for a few girls and boys here and there, seating by themselves. Some I recognized from previous gigs, some I didn’t, but I guessed they were all here for the same reason as I was. Knowing it would take a while for the show to start, I fished my phone from my clutch to have something to do.

As the beginning of the event approached, more guests arrived and I could hear the noise on the room slowly increase, even if I was lost on my phone and wasn’t paying attention. Celebrities passed me as if I was invisible, never acknowledging my presence; even the ones sitting next to me. I didn’t blame them. They were nominees and were excited and nervous, politeness were not something they were thinking about at that time, especially towards someone they didn’t know. Most of them didn’t even stay at their seats anyway. They were all over the room, circulating and greeting acquaintances and other celebrities.

The second bell rang and I snapped my head back, frowning. It got me by surprise, considering I hadn’t even heard the first one. I looked around to find the almost-full room alive with people chatting, exactly as I’d heard. The only chairs around me that were still unoccupied were the four to my right.

The stage was adorned with neon lights and I was absorbing the details in it when cheering and howling echoed on the theatre. I turned to see a big commotion at the entrance. A bunch of paparazzi blocked my view from who was getting in, but I knew from previous experience that it most likely was someone important.

I followed the flock through the middle isle with my gaze until they stopped at the side of my row. My jaw dropped a few inches. The important people I couldn’t see before were One Direction. It took me a couple of seconds to put two and two together and grasp the fact that they would be the ones occupying the four chairs beside me.

They posed for a picture and walked to their seats. Liam was right next to me, Harry, Louis and Niall (in that order) to his right. As soon as they sat, Harry got up and left to greet someone two rows behind us on the other side of the corridor. Niall and Louis engaged in an animated conversation, laughing and joking, and Liam leaned over the open seat to hear them, trying to participate.

I suddenly realized I was staring and focused back on my phone, smiling excited. My younger cousin was a huge fan and I was pretty sure she was going to flip out. Hell, I was kind of flipping out! I wasn’t that much of a fan myself, but I’ve been to their concert before and it was undeniable the music was good. Don’t even get me started on the boys. They were extremely cute to say the least and–

“Hi!” A whisper pulled me out of my thoughts. It was so soft I seriously doubted I had heard anything on the first place. I looked up to the stage to find the lights dimming out and the noise on the room decreasing slowly. The show was about to start. _When did the third bell ring?_

“Hi!” Ok, that one I definitely heard. I turned my head and my eyes locked with a piercing green stare.

Holy fuck, Harry Styles was talking to me.

His elbows were pinned on the chair’s arm between us, slightly leaning towards me. A huge grin spread on his face, dimples and all, his messy curly hair framing it and completing the view. _Now that’s what I call hot_.

“H-Hi.” I had to clear my throat because my mouth felt dry all of a sudden.

“I’m Harry.” He offered me his hand and I shook it, still astonished.

“Liv.” His grin became wider somehow. I smiled back.

A voice announced Jane Lynch was coming on stage and Harry promptly stood up clapping his hands. It took me a few seconds to realize the sudden change and I shoved my phone back in the bag to stand up as well, leaving my clutch on the seat behind me. The parody song started and we clapped and moved along with it, like everyone else in the audience.

 _‘And now for the most important choice of all: should I whip, should I nae nae.’_ Jane Lynch sang from the stage and I laughed hard, my head thrown back. Harry leaned forward, also laughing, and looked at me. He said something I couldn’t quite understand through all the noise, so I just nodded, holding the smile I was wearing. When the song came to an end, we sat back down and the show in fact started.

I leaned forward to look at the three seats beyond Harry, frowning slightly. He followed my gaze.

“Yeh, Liam took my seat.” He looked back at me, his smile now a little bummed. I tilted my head. “He didn’t want me sitting there, I guess.” He shrugged. “But it’s ok, I get to seat here with you.” I smiled shyly.

As the evening went on I became more comfortable around him and even cracked a few jokes that made him laugh heartily. Despite the initial shock (and him being who he was), I was sincerely glad to have someone to talk to. I’ve always found these events hard to get through, since I was always alone. And being there with Harry actually felt just like this: two people relying on each other to make a boring night easier and having fun along the way.

When the show came to an end and we got up to leave, Harry hugged and thanked me for keeping him company. I chuckled, because I knew that, in fact, _he_ was the one who had kept _me_ company. I watched him walk out with the other boys with a huge grin on my face, as I also walked outside, a little behind them. Looking back, I have no idea how I managed to walk back to the limo without bumping into an annoying reporter.

 

 

***

I woke up the next morning with my cousin, Ella – who happens to be my roommate – jumping into my bed and screaming her lungs out.

“OHMYGOD! OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD!” She was kneeling beside me, bouncing up and down with excitement, which shook me so much I was forced to open my eyes.

I looked at her and cocked my eyebrow. “May I help you?”

“Yes. Could you please tell me _why the fuck_ haven’t you told me _this_ before?” She held her phone so close to my face I couldn’t even make out what she was showing me. I grabbed it from her hand to take a better look at it.

There was a photo of Harry and me on the screen. I was leaning forward in my seat, my head turned on his direction, my hands together as if I was clapping; Harry’s shoulders were shrugged forward, one hand on his chest, the other gripping my elbow. Both our faces were clenched, our mouths were open on a silent laugh. I couldn’t remember what we were laughing about, but the photo was funny as hell, it sure looked like we were having a good time.

“Where did you get this?” I hadn’t even noticed we were being photographed, although it was expected to happen on a place full of press.

“It’s all over the internet!”

“Who the hell took this picture?” I said under my breath, asking more to myself than to her.

“Liv, FOCUS!” She snapped her fingers in front of my face.

I threw my legs over the side of the bed to pull myself up, leaving her phone adrift among the duvet, and made my way to the shared bathroom between both of our rooms.

“I was gonna text you once I saw who I was sitting beside, but I got distracted.”

“Distracted by what?” Ella impelled herself through the door before I could close it.

“By Harry—”

“You’re killing me here, Liv!” She whined, grabbing her cheeks with both of her hands. “Why didn’t you wake me when you got home? This is a wake up situation!”

“I noticed.” I said, yawning.

She lifted herself up to sit on the sink marble. “Tell me everything.”

I flushed the toilet and walked over to the sink. “There’s nothing to tell, Ells, we just talked.”

“Seriously, this is not cool. I want details!” She was hysterical.

“Think I may need coffee first—” I said, pumping the soap dispenser.

I had barely got the phrase out when Ella dropped down from the counter and ran out of the bathroom, screaming, with one hand in the air: “I’m on it!” I brushed my teeth and washed my face lazily before going after her.

The gurgling noise of the coffee maker filled the room as I stepped in the open space that held the living room, dining room and kitchen. Our apartment wasn’t big at all, but the open space made it seem otherwise. Well, at least a little. The warm smell of buttery toast and fresh brewed coffee grew bigger as I got closer to the kitchen stool.

“Make yourself comfortable, breakfast is almost ready.” Ella said, not stopping for one second while she put the plates and mugs on the counter. Once she was done, she served us both coffee and toast, sat down and looked at me, her head on her hand. “Now spill the beans.”

It wasn’t a very juicy gossip, still, I told her every detail from the second I left the house.

“Wait, you just walked away?” She asked once I had finished the story. “Think I missed the part where you gave him your number.”

“That’s because I didn’t.” I said, hopping off the stool and heading to the sink with my plate and cup in hand.

“What?” She practically shouted. “Why not?”

“He didn’t ask.” I said simply. She gasped at me, almost offended. “What was I supposed to do?”

“Offer!” She squeaked. I looked at her, frowning. “Liv, listen to me. If you’re talking to an international superstar you don’t come home without a contact. That’s off the table!” She was definitely shouting now, pacing up and down the kitchen while I did the dishes. “What are we gonna do? We need a plan—“

“I’ll wash your dishes too, Ells, why not?” I got her plate and mug and went back to the sink.

She stopped pacing for a second. “That’s the least you can do after coming home without Harry’s number.” She quickly resumed the marching. “They’re not even in concert anymore… How the hell are we supposed to meet him now? We’ll need to find out where he lives. That could be tricky, though, if he’s—“

“Ella, stop!” I held her shoulders and squeezed it lightly. “You’re making a huge deal out of this. It was just a fun night, now it’s over. Drop it.”

Before she could protest, we heard a phone ringing.

“That’s not my ring tone.” She said, getting rid of my hands to run to my room, where I had left my phone. I followed quickly after; there was no way she was answering it. “It’s an unknown number.” She said, slowly, almost afraid to scare the caller, but visibly excited.

I yanked the phone out of her hand and, taking a deep breath, slid my finger through the screen. “Hello?”

Ella roosted herself in my bed, crossing her legs beneath her. She looked at me attentively the whole time I was at the phone, as if she was trying to listen what the other part was saying. As I talked, I paced around the room, stopping on my desk to get a paper so I could take a note. When I hung up, she widened her eyes, waiting impatiently for me to tell her what was going on.

“It was Harry’s manager.” I watched my phone in shock, walking backwards and plopping down by her side when the back of my knees touched the edge of the bed.

“OH MY GOD! I KNEW IT!” She supported herself on her knees and jumped up and down, shaking the whole bed once again. “What did he say?”

“He wants to meet me this afternoon.” I looked at her. “He said he can’t disclosure by the phone, but it’s really important that I come and that I bring a lawyer.”

“Why would you need a lawyer?” She looked puzzled.

“I don’t know.” I whispered.

“Ok. Okay! Let’s not panic. I’m calling my boss and I’m sure she’ll be able to help you.” For my luck, Ella was a paralegal at an important law firm.

She thrust herself on the bed, fumbling around to find her phone. When she found it, she held it in the air like a prize and propelled herself back up on her knees. She touched the screen a few times and placed the phone in her ear. I heard her speak with her boss with an absent mind and before I realized what was going on, she was wiggling the gadget in front of my face.

“She wants to talk to you.” She said when I grabbed it.

“Hello?”

“Hi Liv, it’s Jane. Tell me what happened.” She spoke softly.

“I don’t really know. Yesterday I met Harry Styles, from One Direction, while I was working at the People’s Choice Awards. Today there was a bunch of pictures of us on the Internet and his manager called me asking for a meeting and told me to bring a lawyer.”

“Was that exactly what he said?”

“He said he suggested I bring a lawyer.”

“Did they tell you why?”

“No.”

“Okay. Did he leave a number?” I could hear paper ruffling in the background.

“Yeah.” I repeated the number I had jot down before.

“I’m gonna give him a call. Stay put, I’ll get back to you.”

I hung up and told Ella what she had said.

“I’m pretty sure she’s gonna ask you to go over there before the meeting. We should get ready. I have to go to work soon anyway, I’ll come with.” She told me, leaving for her room.

Giving the circumstances, Ella had let me use the bathroom first, which had never happened before. I showered and washed my hair quickly, leaving a trail of water drops when I went back to my room. Rummaging around the closet, I picked the first items I saw, which was a skinny black jeans, a white shirt, a pair of sneakers and a light taupe blazer. When I was finishing putting it on, my phone rang again.

“Liv, I spoke with Harry’s manager and it’s no trouble, but I think you should come over.” Despite being warned that might happen, that phrase scared the shit out of me.

 

 

***

Forty minutes later we were outside the glass office. Since Ella worked there, we didn’t need to wait for the receptionist to announce us and walked right in. Ella knocked and opened the door; Jane was at her desk. She gestured for us to sit on the other side while she typed on her computer. When she finished what she was doing, she took off her glasses and looked at me.

“Am I being sued?” I asked straight up.

She chuckled. “I can see why you’d think that, but no. Ella, can you give us a second?”

“There’s no way Ella is leaving this room, Jane,” I told her. Ella wasn’t a lawyer yet, but I knew she would give the best advice to protect me the best way she could, no matter what _this_ was. “I trust you Jane, but I trust her more.”

Jane looked from me to Ella to me again and turned to her computer. “Very well.” She clicked a few times, typed something in and a printing sound came from the corner of the room. I looked at Ella, who seemed calm and reassuring.

Pushing her chair, Jane strolled backwards and grabbed the printed-paper. “You both sign here, please.” She put a sheet of paper in front of each of us and pointed to a line on the bottom. I gazed at it; looked like some sort of document.

Seeing my puzzled face, Ella explained. “It’s a non-disclosure agreement. It means we can’t discuss what she’s going to tell us with anyone else outside this room.” She signed hers and passed me the pen. I signed mine too and left the pen on top of the paper on the desk.

“Ella,” Jane said towards her, “for their concern, you working this case with me. Ok?” Ella nodded. “Okay, now for why we’re here. They’re not suing you, Liv, they wanna take advantage of this... situation.”

“What? _How_?” I asked, understanding less by the minute.

“Bottom line is the world’s flipping out about the girl that got Harry Styles hooked yesterday. You’re now being pictured as his ‘latest affair’ by the media.”

“It wasn’t even like that, we were just talking…”

“The meeting his manager suggested to you is to discuss how to proceed.” She continued as though I hadn’t interrupted her. “You asked me how they could _take advantage_ of this, right?” I nodded, astonished. “They want you to fake-date Harry.”

“WHAT?” I squeaked.

“They want to confirm to the press you’re Harry’s girlfriend,” she explained. “I know how it sounds, Liv, but I think we should meet with them.”

“What the hell, man!” I abruptly pulled myself up, pushing the chair back at the process, and started pacing around the room. “That’s absolutely insane!”

“I know, I think it’s weird too. But I can tell they’re willing to go far with this, and, by experience, that usually means the reasons are big. We should hear them out, at least.” Jane stated, simply.

I looked at Ella. She was looking at Jane, frowning. “Ells, what do you think?”

She slowly turned her head. “I think we should go. Let’s… let’s just hear what they have to say. It can’t hurt.”

 

 

***

We drove off to Santa Monica, where the meeting was being held, in Jane’s graffiti CR-V. I vaguely wondered why the meeting was so far away, but didn’t ask. At the backseat, I kept my forehead pressed against the cold window for the whole ride, gazing absent-mindedly at the fast changing landscape, eyebrows slightly frowned, while the other two made small talk, just so the whole trip wasn’t totally silent.

When the car came to a stop outside a high-class hotel near the beach, my mind was boiling with thoughts. What the hell was happening? I had absolutely no idea why I had agreed to meet this people. This was non-sense. Right?

A concierge opened the car door and I gladly took his hand to get out. Ella and I followed Jane inside the magnanimous marble lobby. She seemed to know where she was going. We turned left without talking to anyone on the front desk, walked down a wide hallway and, turning a corner, crossed the glass doors of a sea-view restaurant.

My eyes immediately fell over brunette locks and a flower shirt. Harry was seating at a table straight ahead with his back to the entrance, where I was. His head was down and his shoulder shrugged, making him seem a lot smaller than he actually was. I heard a small gasp behind me and I was certain Ella had seen him too. There were two men to his left, leaving three seats open on his right.

When we approached, all of them promptly stood up to greet us, but Harry movements were lethargic and lifeless and it took him a while longer to rise off his chair. Jane greeted the men, introducing herself, Ella and me and we shook their hands. One of them pointed me to the seat nearest to Harry, but before I had the chance to seat down, Harry pulled me into a hug.

“I’m sorry.” He let me go as quickly as he had grabbed me and sat down. I stood there, looking at him, confused. What was _he_ sorry for?

“Liv, please sit down.” I heard Jane pulling me back to Earth and obeyed automatically. I saw her passing a few papers to the man closer to her and assumed it was the non-disclosure agreement.

“You know why you’re here, Liv?” The other man asked me straight ahead.

“Kinda.” It sounded more like a question than a proper answer.

“You two got the media attention yesterday and started strong a buzz online. The hashtag _#WhoIsHarryWith_ trended worldwide and people quickly found out who you are.” He paused. “Fans seemed to have liked you—” What? _How?_ “–and we need to act on it immediately, before it die out.”

I glanced at Harry. His shoulders were still shrugged, head and eyes down, the wavy curls covering his face and his arms were between his legs, fingers intertwined. It was almost like he wanted to dive into the ground.

“Harry needs a steady relationship and you came in perfect timing,” the man continued. “So we want you both to become boyfriend and girlfriend. Starting today.” He said it like he was discussing the weather. My jaw dropped. That seemed to be happening a lot lately.

“If Harry needs a relationship, how come he isn’t the one talking?” I pointed.

I felt Harry shrug even more beside me. The two men ignored the question completely.

The man closer to Harry leaned forward and put his elbows on the table. “If you agree to this, you’re going to sign a contract and you’ll both have to convince the public that it’s real, that you really love each other.” His eyes lingered on Harry, who were still looking at his feet, then met mine. “What you do on your personal time is up to you, but you’ll have a commitment to live up to and that means appearances. You’ll have to show up at scheduled events, be seen in public and you won’t be able to date anyone else. If you mention it to anyone outside this room, ever, the contract will be revoked and, not only you won’t get a penny, you’ll get sued. Do you understand?”

It took me a few seconds to process his words. When it sunk in, I let out a laugh. “There’s no way we’re doing this.” I looked at Harry and, for the first time since I had gotten there, he looked back at me, his eyes heavy. I could tell he hated this and yet it felt like a plea. “Right?” My voice came out lower than I expected.

“We have to.” There was a glimpse of pain in his words. My mouth seemed to have forgotten how to close itself.

The room was in absolute silence while we looked at each other. I could feel everyone holding their breath, waiting for an answer. However I still quite didn’t get how could this even be considered a possibility. Surely Harry could choose his own girlfriend – he was Harry Styles for God’s sake. Why did he need his manager and a transaction for it?

“I wanna talk to him alone first.” The words took me by surprise, even though I was the one saying them – they weren’t really a request.

“Ok. The venue is closed for us. You can go on the other room if you like.” It didn’t go unnoticed by me the harsh look the man gave Harry.

We both got up and it was only then that I observed there was no one else in the room. Harry and I made our way through the arched wall, entering a different area of the restaurant.

“What’s going on?” I asked him as soon as we sat down at a random table on the left.

“I have to date.” He said simply, a sad smile on his face. When I didn’t say a word, he completed, “It’s part of my contract.”

“Why don’t you just – you know – date?”

“Don’t want to.”

“But you don’t wanna date me either.” I wasn’t trying to make him feel bad or anything; I was just stating a fact. I could feel he didn’t want to be with me as much as I didn’t want to be with him. “Don’t get me wrong, Harry; you’re fucking gorgeous,” he chuckled, “but we didn’t really click that way. It was more like a friend thing.” I said softly.

“I know. That’s why I actually considered it.” His voice was quiet and he looked at his feet. “I don’t wanna do this anymore than you do. But I know I have to, might as well be with someone I’ve had a good time with.”

“Harry, I’ve known you for, like, twelve hours.” I shook my head trying to make sense of all of it.

“I know. I’m sorry.” He was devastated. Really worn out, like he didn’t have the energy to fight anymore.

“Have you done this before?” My voice cracked.

He nodded.

My heart broke for him. Even if I didn’t understand completely, it must be hard having someone dictate your life like that and having to please so many people at once. Judging by his behavior, stuff like this happened all the time in his life and he looked tired of going against it.

“Tell me honestly… If I said yes, would I be helping you?”

He nodded again.

My head was telling me this was a bad idea. I took a deep breath and my gut won the fight.

“Okay.”

He tilted his head up to look at me. “Okay?”

I smiled at him. “Okay.”


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!  
> I didn't beta-read this, so if you see any mistakes, let me know (but please be kind hahaha).  
> I hope you like where I'm going with this, I'm really excited to see what's gonna happen on the next chapter...   
> Please comment and kudo :)

When the meeting was over, Harry and his managers went back to Hollywood, where his hotel was located. They left first, so we wouldn’t be spotted with our lawyers and raise suspicion. Ella, who had been advised to stay quiet during the meeting, Jane and I stayed at the same table after the restaurant reopened to have lunch while reviewing the contract extendedly. It looked like we had finally laid on a version good enough that wouldn’t completely destroy me in case the whole shenanigans went wrong and secured I would graduate. We also determined a large monthly pay plus a generous fee for each oversea event and an accumulative bonus for each year of the working contract, which would all be directly deposited onto my bank account on a established date.

“I think this could work for you,” Jane said, placing the paperwork on the table and taking a sip of her flavored water.

I threw an inquiring look at Ella.

“I agree. And, man, let me tell you… I would sign this in a heartbeat!” That was perhaps the fourth time she had said that. “I mean, you get to date Harry Styles  _ and _ make money out of it. How cool is that?”

I had given up trying to explain my feelings to her. I wasn’t even sure if I had figured them out myself. Yeah, I would get to “date” Harry and, yeah, I would make a ton of money out of it… It was flattering and exciting as hell, but the reasons were fucked up. So, basically, I was torn.

The drive back to Westwood, where Ella and I lived, was quicker this time around. I got home at a little past five and Jane and Ella went back to the office to mail the contract to Harry’s lawyers. Best scenario was their reply accepting our version right away, but truth was that almost never happened. Jane had informed me beforehand that there would probably be some going back and forth until both parties were satisfied. To ensure neither would back off and that we could start acting on it legally shielded, Harry and I had signed a previous document. 

I had just opened the front door when my phone buzzed against the back pocket of my jeans. Closing the door with one hand, I reached for it with the other and unlocked the screen with my thumb. It was a text message. From Harry. We had exchanged numbers earlier at the suggestion of his managers, so apparently we were texting now.

 

Harry [5:17]

Hey Liv :) I’ve been thinkin, can we meet up later tonight? We have a lot to talk about and would be good to figure a thing or two out just between us. What do you think?

 

I quickly typed a response.

 

Liv [5:17]

I think it would be great. Should we meet somewhere? What do you have in mind?

 

Dropping my bucket bag at the counter, I sat down at the kitchen stool. I could see he was typing and was just waiting for it with iMessage open.

 

Harry [5:18]

I could pick you up around 8 maybe?! Just text me your address.

 

I texted him our address and hit Ella right after.

“I have a date with Harry tonight.” I blustered out as soon as she picked up.

“What?” She asked in a low voice, just like she always did when she was at the office.

“Harry texted me just now and asked me out so we could talk about all this.”

“Ah, you're having DTRs already. How sweet!” She mocked.

“Oh, shut up. We do have a lot to talk about.”

“I know. Have you thought about what you gonna wear?”

“No idea.” I sighed. “Don’t know where he’s taking me, so I figured maybe casual-not-casual?”

“Yeah, but go with heels, you know, just in case. What time is it?”

“He’s picking me up at eight.”

“I’ll rush home as soon as I can.”

When we hung up, I settled on the couch to take a look at what people were saying about me. I was cynical about the fans-liking-me thing, but it didn’t take long to change my opinion. General comments were actually good; they were really supportive of Harry and were clearly rooting for his happiness, which I could totally relate.

At a quarter to seven, I reluctantly put my phone down and stretched. I hadn’t move at all since I had sat down. Plugging the phone on the charger in my room, I marched over to Ella’s closet to check on her clothes. With a dress in one hand and heels on the other, I walked back to my room and placed the clothes on the bed.

Within an hour I had showered, applied my make up and got dressed. I ended up going with an all-black outfit: simple black dress with a cleated sole chunky black heels, a long silver necklace and a black leather jacket on top of everything. 

“You look awesome.” Ella was leaning against the doorframe of my closet, her bag hanging from her shoulder, the house keys on her hands.

I dropped the lipstick I was holding with the fright. “Jesus Ells!” I squatted down to pick it up and shoved it in the black clutch on my other hand.

Ella giggled at my reaction. “I know you’re not used to look like that, but no need to be scared.”

I was ready to answer her when the intercom buzzed. “Saved by the bell.” Smiling, I passed Ella on the way to it. “I’ll be right down,” I spoke to the machine and marched to the front door.

“Have fun and be safe!” Ella had short legs and she was trotting to keep up with my pace. 

“Mom!” I squeaked, mock-offended, and closed the door.

  
  


***

“Where are we going?” I asked Harry after greeting him at the backseat of the black SUV.

“Are you hungry?” I nodded. “I thought we’d grab something to eat, what do you think?”

“Sounds great.”

The short ride was filled with small talk. When we arrived at the restaurant, Harry hopped off first and offered me a helping hand, that I gladly took, to get out of the car. We walked inside Cecconi’s and were greeted by a smiling host that led us to a small table on the patio. Thanking her, Harry pulled my chair for me and I sat down. He mimicked me and sat across the table.

It seemed weird to dive right into subject, so we kept chitchatting. When the waiter left our table to take our orders to the kitchen after serving the whine, we looked at each other for a few seconds and burst out laughing. 

“Glad we’re not feeling awkward at all.” Harry said, sarcasm spilling all over it, and raised his glass.

“Pff, who hasn’t fake-dated a celebrity before? It’s the new normal.” I raised mine to clink softly on his.

He chuckled and took a sip. Putting down the glass, he placed both of his elbows at the table and crossed his hands. 

“I sure have.” He was still laughing, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“You wanna tell me more about it now or later?” I took a sip off the glass that was still in my hand, looking at him over the edge.

“It’s not a great subject, really. Basically, I’ve been fake-dating here and there because I refuse to real-date anyone. Management got sick of it and decided I needed a steady relationship.” He started playing with his glass.

“Why do you refuse to real-date?” He didn’t even look up at the question, just kept swirling his glass slowly, and making the liquid inside paint the edges and drip back down. “Have you ever real-dated anyone?”

“Yep.” 

“Is that the reason you’re fake-dating now?”

“Yep.” He clearly didn’t want to talk about it, so I refrained from asking any more questions for the time being. He took another sip. “It’s complicated.”

“Did you kiss your fake-relationships?” I tried to change the subject. Kind of.

“Yeah. Well, people tend not to believe it if they don’t see the kiss.”

“Did you have sex with them?”

“Sometimes.” He said simply.

“So how’s it gonna work? You and me, I mean.”

“I was thinking of staying in LA for a while so we could go out,” he explained. “Like really date. Even though it’s gonna be a fake thing, we need to get to know each other. We can think of the next step later on… What do you think?”

“Well, I’m still in college so it’s good that you’ll stay, because I need to finish it before I can go anywhere.” Suddenly a thought crossed my mind. “Wait. You’re not moving in with me, are you?” I looked at him wide-eyed.

He laughed. “No! I was thinking of renting something.”

“Oh. Yeah, that makes sense.”

“But if this work out, eventually things might escalate.”

“How?”

“I don’t know, maybe moving in… Haven’t thought that far if I’m honest.”

I took a deep breath – shit was getting real. Before I could say anything, the waiter came back with the burrata appetizer we had ordered. We dug in, in silence. I was getting used to my head feeling like it was on the verge of exploding with thoughts, and yet I couldn’t get a hold of many of those, making it hard to express myself. 

I reached for a piece of bread and Harry grabbed my hand over the table.

“I know this is weird and seems too much now and it is, it is too much and I’m so sorry for dragging you into this, I really am.” He vomited the words, like he was thinking way faster then he was talking. He gave my hand a little squeeze. “But if you’re still up for this, I think we just need to get to know each other better, I feel like we’ll get along perfectly. I like your company already. And I’ll be eternally grateful and I promise to keep you happy for as long as this lasts.”

I chuckled. “Jesus, Harry, we’re not getting married!”

“Who knows?” He laughed. I gasped, broke the bread in my hand and threw a piece at him, who held the cloth napkin up as a shield.

“But thanks for saying that. I’m still pretty confused and I keep going back and forth on how I feel about it, so it’s good to hear you say that.”

He leaned forward again. “Seriously, you can back out anytime. I don’t care about the fucking contract, if you want out you’re out. And I’ll still like you, no matter what.”

“Good.” I smiled at him.  “But I’m not backing out. At least not yet. I know it’s too much for you too, that it sucks being in your position and I have no idea why, but I wanna help. So, for now, I’m staying.”

Suddenly, he placed the palm of his hands on each side of his plate, propped himself up, pushing his chair backwards, and leaned forward over the table, throwing one arm around my neck and pushing me closer. I was caught totally off guard, but did my best to hug him back, despite the awkward position we were in. He snuggled on the crook of my neck and let out a long breath, the puff of air and tip of his nose tickling my skin.

“Thank you.” He whispered. And he sounded relieved.

  
  


***

When we stepped outside after paying it wasn’t at all the same scene as when we came in. Instantly, hundreds of blinding flashes were fired and dozen questions were asked at once. ‘ _ Harry, is this your new girlfriend? What’s her name? Can you look over here?’ _

Harry grabbed my hand. “Stay close and don’t talk.” He whispered in my ear.

A bodyguard popped up out of nowhere, pushing back some people for us to have room to walk, and guided us to the SUV that was already waiting by the curb. When we approached it, Harry dropped my hand and placed it on my lower back, gently conducting me into the car. 

I climbed in, him following me right after. The bodyguard closed the door and got on the front seat.

“Well, that will cover it for sometime.” He shined a joyless smile at me.

I smiled back, leaning my head on the headrest, my hopes that this could go quietly going down the drain.

  
  


***

“How was it?” Ella was all over me as soon as opened the front door to our apartment. For the look of it, she had been sitting at the kitchen stool sipping off a mug, but now she was right in front of me, an eager expression on her face, waiting for the juicy details.

“It was great, actually.” Stopping to think about it made me realized I had had a great time. “We got to talk and this whole idea is settling.” I plopped on the couch, leaving my bag on the center table and taking off my heels to push my legs up.

Ella sat by my side, facing me. “So,” she lingered on that word, fingers poking on her toes absently, “did you kiss him?”

I threw my head back laughing. “No.”

She growled. “This is so frustrating! I’m gonna die if you don’t take advantage of this, I’m serious.” She had a playful smile on her face. “Do you know how many people would kill to be in your place?”

“As his real-girlfriend, not fake-girlfriend, I bet. He did hug me over the table, though.” I smiled at her. I knew deep down that had nothing to do with what she was thinking, but it was fun talking to her like it had been a real date. “We might still kiss, who knows?”

She gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. I could see the amusement in her eyes.

“I solemnly swear to tell you all about it when it happens.” One of my hands was raised, palm facing her, like I was taking an oath.

“Yes!”

I told her about the conversation Harry and I had that night and what he had told me. I told her about how I felt I wanted to help, even if I didn’t know how or why or what I was helping him with. I told her about him telling me I could back out whenever I wanted despite the contract. She listened intensely while I talked for what felt like hours, brows slightly furrowed, nodding here and there.

When I finished talking, she reached out on the couch to grab my hand and gave it a squeeze. “Liv, as your cousin and best friend, I’ve got to tell you this,” she sounded serious. “You can completely count on me to have sex with him if you don’t want to.” And then she didn’t.

In one smooth movement, I grabbed a pillow from behind me and slapped her on the ribs with it as she raised her arms to shield herself, laughing.

  
  


***

Panting hard, I pushed open the door to the bright classroom to see about fifty heads turning in my direction in return. I mumbled an apology to the professor as I passed him and dropped heavily at the first available desk, by the window, my bag slipping down my arm to the floor beside me. Ella and I had stayed up late the night before and I missed the alarm in the morning. That meant I had to (literally) run to get in class.

It took a minute to stabilize my breathing pattern and another one to fathom that many of those fifty heads were still turned at me. Mostly girls. Mostly with mischievous smiles upon their faces. I figured they must have been updated on the biggest latest news of the world: my love life. It had officially started.

I let out a deep breath and tried to focus on the subject of the class. I was about to graduate in Neuroscience and this was the last elective course I had to take to graduate – not to mention by far my favorite. Funny enough, it was about behavioral and cognitive neuroscience applied on the music industry. Once I engaged on the ongoing debate, time flew and lesson was over in the blink of an eye. I gathered my notebook, pen and phone, turned off the recording app, and shoved everything on my bag.

I pushed my way through the million of students wandering around in between classes and crossed the campus to the cafeteria. On my hurry to make it in time that morning, I hadn’t had any breakfast and was starving. I ordered a latte and a blueberry muffin and stepped aside to retrieve it.

“Have you noticed that your popularity grew a million percent overnight?” Ella asked casually, magically appearing right next to me and ordering some coffee too.

“Are you tracking my popularity meter?” I couldn’t help but laugh at her.

“Pff. Of course.” She rolled her eyes and trailed of to find a sitting spot.

I followed her and we sat down on a bench outside the building. Even though it was winter, the sun was shining and the weather was only chili, making it a great day to be out.

“Have you checked your Instagram and twitter accounts today yet?” Ella took a sip of her coffee and looked at me.

I shook my head, pulling the phone out of my bag, unlocking it and opening the Instagram app. The follower number had gone from 227 to almost 10.000 in less than a day. On the D Day (that was how Ella and I were calling the day of the meeting with Harry’s managers) I had seriously considered changing it into a private account, but then what the hell. People were going to find out whatever they wanted to, so I might as well just give it to them. I didn’t have that many posts anyway. Twitter was even crazier: I had gained like 35.000 followers overnight and was being mentioned a thousand times by the minute. I couldn’t even keep up with the notifications anymore. Thank God that I didn’t have a Facebook account.

“You’re right, I’m popular now.” I said, shoving the phone back on my bag.

“Told ya. Although we both know you’re no Regina George.” She blew her coffee and looked at me through her eyelashes.

“Oh, please, everybody knows I’m a Cher.” 

“As if!” She laughed at me.

I swallowed the last piece of my muffin and rose up. “Gotta go meet my mentor and then I’m off for the weekend.” I threw my arms in the air to celebrate, but it turned into a full body stretch. 

“I still got a bunch of classes and work. I’ll meet you back at home.” Ella said, getting up too. “We’re still on for tonight, right?”

I paused for a second. I had totally forgotten. “Oh yeah! I think so, yeah.” She gave me one of those looks when she knows I’m not sure, but she’s going to convince me anyway, so she’s not really worried.

Ella and I knew a lot of people – well, Ella knew a lot of people; I was just her cousin who tagged along – but we didn’t have that many close friends beside each other. Tonight happened to be the get together of the not-that-many-close-friends we had. It was going to be at Adam and Sue’s house, just down the street from our apartment and it was not a big deal. Until Harry got into the picture.

Fuck, was I supposed to invite him? I didn’t think I should, but wasn’t it rude to just not to? Wouldn’t it be weird to be dating-not-dating around all people that knew me well? I should’ve mentioned this kind of situation at dinner the previous night, but how the hell was I supposed to know that this kind of situation would happen so soon? I had known about the  _ rendezvous _ for, like, a week, but that was just a technicality. The Harry Thing seemed to have overpowered all of my other thoughts.

Before I could figure it out I reached my mentor’s office. I snapped out of it and knocked twice. When I heard the avid consent from the other side of the door, I pushed it open and forgot about everything else.

I had recently found out that what I loved the most about college was the final paper. I know, crazy, right? I was just so excited about the theme of my research that the weekly meetings with the advisor and the late nights working on it had almost become an escape. Not that studying the biobehavioral process of love and attachment was a piece of cake. Because let me tell you right now that it is  _ a lot _ of work. It’s just that when you’re inspired about something, it’s easier to get it done.

The one-on-one time with the mentor was over before I could say neuroscience. When I stepped outside the stone building to walk home, I was way too pumped up to make any decisions. So, obviously, I made one.

 

Liv [10:34]

Morning FBF *laughing emoji* it’s Friday YAY and my friends are having a party tonight. Nothing big, but should be fun. Wanna come?

 

Ella and mine apartment was just off campus, so it took me less than ten minutes to get home. I threw my bag on the entry table beside the bamboo bowl we used as a key holder and, after getting a fruit salad and a bottle of water from the fridge, I carefully lowered down to sit on the floor, my back to the couch. I placed the items in my hand by the MacBook on the coffee table and re-arranged the latter to the perfect position in front of me so I could start working. I opened it and, since it was already on, the screen immediately lit up.

My final paper was almost done already and, on Fridays after the meeting with the advisor, I normally adjusted the text and add whatever notes he had given me. Except, we had come up with a whole new point of view to a specific part of the work that morning and it would take me a lot of research to re-do it. Which was no problem at all, because I had arranged my classes since the freshman year leaving to the end the ones I knew would make a difference on the final paper I would have to do eventually. That meant I still had lab time, which had proven to be extremely valuable at the stage I was in with my research.

When my stomach growled, I realized I had been working for two hours straight and suddenly felt an imperative urge to stretch. For the next two minutes I twisted, twirled and writhed around myself until I found the release my stiff muscles craved for.

I gave myself one last full body stretch getting up, gathered the empty containers and threw them in the recycle bin under the sink. Standing in the middle of the kitchen, I looked around for a second trying to remember what I had gotten up to do and, like it was on cue, my stomach made another animalistic sound. 

Ella was never home for lunch and, even though I liked to cook, most days I just threw stuff together at a pan for a Quick Lunch Of The Lazy People. Not this time, though. I wanted to have a proper meal for a change. Like, with ingredients that actually go together. Therefore, I found myself leaning against the open fridge door, meticulously scanning everything inside. Turns out there were a lot of usable items and I instantly remembered a recipe I had found online a few days before.

I went to fetch my phone from the bag I had abandoned on the entry table earlier and there was a text from Harry.

 

Harry [11:23]

YAAAAS!!! I’m bored out of my mind! Take me out of my misery.

 

I replied right away even though I was more than an hour late.

 

Liv [12:47]

Hahaha party’s at 9, do you wanna come earlier?

 

I slid my phone into my back pocket and didn’t even make it to the kitchen before it buzzed. And that’s saying a lot, considering the kitchen was, like, three steps from the door.

 

Harry [12:47]

What are you doing now?

 

Liv [12:47]

About to start making lunch

 

Harry [12:47]

Magic word! Be there in 15.

 

I chuckled and opened the photos app to look for the recipe. Turned out it was way easier than I had anticipated and started taking the ingredients out the fridge an arranging them on the counter.

When the intercom rang, minutes later, I already had everything pre-prepped and, as soon as I had buzzed him in and unlocked the door, I turned on the stove top to start cooking.

“Honey, I’m home!” Harry sang, making an entrance quite like Joey and Chandler when they won Monica’s apartment on Friends. Except without the sandwich. And the dog. “You realize this could be our future, right?” he laughed, closing the door behind him.

I glared at him. “Not in a million yea– holy fuck, I thought you were joking.” I froze mid-sentence when I realized that Harry was carrying a suitcase and a backpack.

He laughed. “Nah, I just figured it was easier to check out already since I’m moving in to my new place tomorrow. So I’m giving you the pleasure of my company for the night.” He bowed and flashed me the brightest smile.

“Oh my God, thank you so much!” I mocked.

“I thought it would be fun too.” He looked around: “So, where’s my room?”


End file.
